Let There Be A Light
by Tchabu
Summary: Jarod meets another Pretender and learns something about his family. I promise, it isn't that bad, so please Read and Review.
1. Default Chapter

~~Disclaimer: The Centre and all characters, with the exception of Sarah, are not mine,   
and I didn't come up with the idea for the Pretender, so I only take credit for the storyline   
and the characters I have created.   
  
  
Let Be There A Light   
Part 1   
By Tchabu  
  
  
  
Raines led the young girl into a small room. It was dark, and there was a window on one   
side. The girl immediately knew that, although she could see what happened in the room   
the window opened up to, all the people on the other side would see was a large mirror.   
As she crossed the tiny room, she saw two men in the room beyond. One of them she   
knew right away; it was Sydney, one of the men who worked here at the Centre. The   
other's back was turned to her, but the figure seemed somewhat familiar. The girl   
searched her mind for who it could be, until Raines finally provided an answer to her   
unspoken question.   
"It's Jarod," he rasped in a flat, yet somehow triumphant, tone of voice. "You did it. You   
helped us find him."   
Just then, the man turned to face Sydney. She instantly recognized him.   
This was the man she had spent so many hours simulating; this was the man Raines had   
forced her to become time and time again. She looked at him curiously. Suddenly, his   
eyes seemed to meet hers. She knew that he couldn't see her, but she could feel his   
intense stare burning into her. His eyes were so different than anything else she had ever   
seen. They were dark, angry and cold, but at the same time, she could see pain and   
compassion mixed in them. She whirled around, her own eyes flashing with anger.   
"This is Jarod? You told me he was a dangerous man, that he was a killer! You lied to   
me. I've just helped to take his freedom away from him. You can't use him anymore." At   
a quick motion from Raines, Sam and Willy grabbed the girl, who was still yelling at   
Raines, and practically carried her back to her cell.   
***  
Jarod sat in his space, finally alone. He was handcuffed to a chair in the middle of the   
room. It was late. Dark bags circled his eyes; he'd hardly slept for the last week, since   
they had brought him in. He was still mentally raging at himself for being caught so   
easily. After three years of giving the Centre the slip, they had simply come for him,   
taking him out of the apartment he had been staying in.   
The pretender's train of thought was broken very abruptly, as the vent in the ceiling was   
removed and a young girl literally dropped, lightly as a cat, into his cell like space.   
"The ceiling ones are always harder," she muttered, dusting her hands off on the dark   
slacks they made her wear. Jarod only sat there, completely speechless and wondering   
who this could be. She had long, wavy red hair, deep blue eyes, and was fairly tall. She   
could have been thirteen or fourteen. "Don't worry," she said, in response to Jarod's   
glance at the security cameras in the room. "They have been temporarily disabled."   
"Who are you?" he asked, at last finding his voice.   
"My name is Sarah. I am a pretender, too." She pulled a paper clip from her back pocket   
and went around to the back of the chair. Straightening the bit of metal out, she began to   
pick at the lock on the cuffs. "I'll try and get you out of these as soon as I can. They look   
pretty uncomfortable."   
"I'm Jarod."   
"I know," she replied.   
"How do you know me, and why are you here?" Jarod finally let his questions spill out.   
"Got it!" The cuffs fell away, and Jarod rubbed his wrists. "Well, there aren't many   
secrets they can keep secret here, and let's just say that I owe you, and leave it at that for   
now."   
"How?''   
"There isn't much time. Somebody will be in here soon. Do you want to get out?"   
Jarod could not believe his ears. "How do I know I can trust you?"   
"Why else would I come in through the ventilation system?" Seeing the answer on his   
face, she went on. "Good. Be ready tomorrow night, and I will be back. We have help."   
He looked at her, and decided that she was really on his side.   
"All right, I'll be ready."   
"I have to go now. Would you mind giving me a little help?" He nodded, and silently   
boosted her up into the hole in the ceiling. Sarah replaced the vent, climbed away, and   
was gone.   
***  
The next night, at about the same time, Sarah was sitting on her hard mattress, going over   
the plan in her mind. Everything seemed to be right, so she gathered up the few things   
she thought of as her belongings: a sketchpad, an extra pair of slacks, and a turtleneck   
that she knotted into a make-shift backpack. As she finished up, she heard a tapping, and   
the vent, which was in the wall in her room, opened inwards. angelo's face showed   
through, and he extended his arm down to her. With practiced ease, she took it, and   
swung up into the opening. After one last glance into the closest thing to a home she had   
known for ten years, she followed Angelo deeper into the Centre.   
Jarod, too, was ready to leave. They had let him stay out of the handcuffs, but he hadn't   
left the space for over 36 hours now. He had spent his time since Sarah had visited   
wondering how they would escape, and who would help them. When he heard the grating   
pulled away from the opening, he expected a red head to poke though, but he was wrong.   
Instead, he saw Angelo's grinning face. In silence he took the outstretched arm, and with   
a small jump, was lifted out of the cell. Angelo lowered the grating back into place, and   
the two men scrambled up the heating duct.   
In the thick darkness, Jarod could just barely make out Angelo, motioning for him to   
follow. With no idea where the girl was, Jarod followed, crawling through the ceilings   
and walls of the huge building in total silence.   
Left, right, and left again, they crawled for what Jarod judged to be about twenty minutes,   
until they came to the huge chimneys of the Centre. Sarah waited there for them. She had   
soot smudged on her nose and forehead, but didn't seem to notice. Jarod mouthed the   
words "now what?" and she pointed upwards in reply. They were going to climb up the   
chimneys!   
Sarah quickly hugged Angelo, and Jarod whispered his thanks. As he disappeared, the   
redheaded girl began to climb a small maintenance ladder, and Jarod followed her. The   
rungs were slippery with smoke residue, but slowly and carefully, they continued to   
climb, finally emerging into the bright moon- and star-light.   
"How do we get down?" Jarod asked, leaning out over the immense drop.   
"More climbing," Sarah replied. "There is another ladder down to the roof, and more over   
on the west end of the building. After that, all we have to do is get past the Sweepers, and   
then we are out of here!"   
They began the descent, with Jarod going first this time, and worked much more quickly.   
Soon, they were on the grounds. Jarod grabbed Sarah's hand, and, telling her to stay close   
behind him, led her across the lawn. Ducking and weaving in and out of the shadows, the   
escapees kept as quiet as possible. To both of their great satisfaction, they met nobody,   
and quickly made it out onto the highway. Both breathed sighs of relief, and they began   
walking, hoping to put as much space possible between themselves and the Centre.   
***  
Two days later, Jarod and Sarah were thousands of miles away from the Centre, and both   
much better for it. Jarod had not yet gotten Sarah to tell him much about herself except to   
explain what she had done while at the Centre.   
"I was taken to the Centre when I was about five," she explained. "At first, I did all sorts   
of sims, from what were supposedly rescue missions to research for chemists. Then,   
when I was ten, I started to simulate you." At this statement Jarod looked only slightly   
surprised. He had suspected that they had used another pretender to find him. "Mr. Raines   
told me that you were a very dangerous man, and that you were a murderer. He also said   
that you needed to be brought back to keep you from hurting somebody else. I believed   
him." Here she dropped her eyes ashamedly, and would say no more.   
***  
Later that evening, when Sarah was already sleep, Jarod as getting ready for bed and   
passed her room. He heard her crying in her sleep, and so went in to check on her. Her   
face was drenched in sweat, and she tossed and turned restlessly, mumbling and crying   
the entire time. Jarod shook her gently, trying to wake her.   
"Wake up, Sarah, it's only a dream." At the touch of his hand, she sat bolt upright and let   
out a short scream. When she saw that it was only Jarod, she began to stammer out an   
apology.   
"Oh, Jarod, I'm so sorry. I thought it was him, and I thought he was coming for me..." She   
trailed off as Jarod put his arm around her.   
"Will you tell me what you were dreaming about, Sarah?" he asked gently. She shook her   
head, saying:   
"I can't, because he'll kill you!"   
"It was only a dream, Sarah, and I promise that nobody will hurt me if you tell me about   
it. Now, will you please tell me what it was about?"   
She took a deep breath. "When I was a baby, I was adopted. I don't remember my birth   
parents, but my adoptive parents told me that they had loved me very much. I always   
knew that I was adopted, and it never bothered me.   
"I was probably three years old when a man came to the door in the middle of the night.   
He shot my adopted mother in the head, and stabbed my father. Then he told me that if I   
ever told anybody what had happened, he would make what happened to them look like   
fun. He left, and I didn't see him again for a long time.   
"As my adoptive father lay there dying, he told me to be a good girl. He gave me this   
key," she showed Jarod a small key that hung from a chain on her neck, "and said that it   
opened a box in a bank in Iowa, and to never forget the address, and never let anybody   
take it from me. Any time somebody tried to take it at the Centre, I screamed and kicked   
at them, so they let me have it.   
"I lived in foster homes for the next two years, and then they took me to the Centre."   
Jarod looked thoughtful. "You said that you didn't see the murderer for a long time. Do   
you know who he is?" She nodded slowly.   
"Mr. Lyle, from the Centre."   
He had to struggle to keep his face calm as the anger and hatred that always hovered in   
his mind threatened to surface in his expression. Ever since Lyle had killed Kyle, there   
had been nothing but hatred and contempt for him. Now, however, he knew he had to be   
soothing and strong for the girl who was looking at him with complete trust written on   
her own face. He smiled gently and patted her on the back reassuringly.   
"Thank you," he said. "Lyle will never know that you told me." He paused. "Can you go   
back to sleep now?"   
"Yes." Sarah flashed the first smile she ever gave him as she crawled back under the   
blankets and switched off the light.   
***  
"Where are we going?" Sarah asked. The two pretenders were rolling down a highway in   
the small car Jarod had bought that morning. For a while, she had been content to just   
watch the scenery go by and to take in all of the colors her previous life had been so   
devoid of, but now she had finally let her curiosity get the better of her. Keeping his eyes   
on the road, Jarod answered her.   
"To Iowa."   
"Really?" She was absolutely incredulous.   
"Really." He smiled. "Do you remember the bank's address and the box number?"   
"I've never forgotten. 4130 East Highland Drive, Willow Ridge, Iowa, box number 209,"   
she recited without hesitation.   
"Good. We'll be there in about three hours."   
***  
Willow Ridge was a good-sized town, judging from the sign that loudly proclaimed   
"Population 15,729." First they rented a pair of adjoining hotel rooms for the night, and   
then they pulled up to the small bank. Jarod parked the car, and then grinned   
encouragingly at the younger pretender. She seemed nervous.   
"Do you want me to go in with you?" he asked. After a moment's consideration, she   
replied.   
"No, if you don't mind, I think I should do this alone."   
"I understand. I'll wait here."   
Without another word, Sarah swung the door open and walked up to the building,   
clutching the tiny key. Jarod sat in the car, waiting, for a good twenty minutes, when she   
finally came out, holding a large manilla envelope to herself. Sliding back into the   
passenger seat, she read the name, her name, that was written in beautiful handwriting on   
the front.   
"Do you want to open it now?"   
"No, I think I would rather wait until we get back to the hotel," she said, thinking of what   
the envelope could contain. She knew that it would tell her something about herself,   
something she desperately needed to know. Hoping that it would tell her who her birth   
parents were, she held the package until they arrived at the hotel. She immediately   
disappeared into her room, wanting to be alone.   
Closing the door behind her, she sat down on the bed and looked once again at the fine   
script on the envelope. Then, ever so gently, she opened the flap and slid the contents out   
onto the bed. Inside were another envelope, letter sized this time, and a delicate pendant,   
perfectly matched to her chain. As she inspected it, she saw that it was a cross,   
masterfully engraved with the Twenty-Third Psalm, which was the only piece of   
Scripture she knew. Sarah picked up the letter, opened it, and unfolded the enclosed piece   
of paper. A small photograph of three people, a man and woman holding a small baby   
with a tuft of red hair, came with the letter, which she read. She paused, and then read it   
twice more, letting the truth of it sink in.   
Suddenly, she stood and walked out to where Jarod was on the Internet, working on a site   
with a picture of the same woman who was holding the baby she knew to be herself.   
Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but no sound would come, and so she wordlessly   
handed the letter and photo to Jarod. He took them, with a questioning expression. After   
studying the photo for long while, he read the letter, and re-read it, just as Sarah had   
done, the question changing to interest, then a stunned expression finally taking over his   
features.   
Then he found his voice. "You're my sister?"   
She nodded.   
  



	2. Let There Be A Light, Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Ok, The Centre, Jarod, Miss Parker, Broots, Sydney, Lyle, etc: They all belong to somebody else. Fox, I believe, at the moment. I wrote this because I like the show and I was super-pissed when they took it off the air for a while. I hope you enjoy it, becaus ei am not getting any money for this, and I hope I at least get somebody to enjoy my little hobby, besides me. Anyway, READ PART ONE FIRST! You'll be somewhat confused if you don't. Ready, set.... GO!   
  
  
  
Let Be There A Light   
Part 2   
By Tchabu  
  
Sarah stood on the balcony of the hotel, watching the first sunrise she   
had ever seen. The sky was gloriously aflame in a wash of colors;   
lavenders, oranges, and roses all mixed together into an immense watercolor   
painting. As she took in the gorgeous scene, she mulled over the past few   
days of her life.   
Less than a week before, she had decided that it was time for her to leave the Centre. The girl had been furious to find that her Sims had been used to track down an innocent man, and she had vowed never to help the Centre again. Shortly thereafter, she and Jarod, the man she had helped to bring in, escaped. Sarah felt so guilty of what she had, in her mind, done to him, that she knew she had to make it up to him. That is she had helped him to get out of that glorified prison.   
Then, just the previous night, she had found a package addressed to herself in a safe deposit box. Inside were a photograph, a golden pendant that she now wore on a chain around her neck, and a letter that she had known would explain who she was. Sarah pulled the piece of paper out of her pocket, unfolded it, and read it once more in the early morning light:   
  
You are reading this because you are now old enough to understand what we have to tell you. First of all, your father and I love you very much, but we couldn't raise you. You see, it would not have been safe for you. When you were born, your father and I were overjoyed because we had thought we were too old to have any more children. As you grew, we realized you would someday be what is called a Pretender. Pretenders are people who can become anybody on earth. They can learn how they think, what they feel, and take up any occupation they wish. It is a trait that runs in our family, and you have two older brothers who are also Pretenders.   
However, there is a corporation called the Centre that takes young Pretenders to use as they please. The Centre took both of your brothers, Kyle and Jarod, from us when they were very small. At the time I am writing this, we haven't seen either of them for over fifteen years.   
We didn't want you to be taken away from us, too, so we had to give you up to another family who we knew would keep you safe. It was a terribly hard decision for us to make, but we know that the Centre is watching us and will never leave us alone.   
I hope that someday we will be able to meet you and get to know you. Your father and I both miss and love you very much, and we are so sorry that we couldn't bring you up ourselves.   
It was signed, simply, "Your Mother," in the same beautiful hand that the letter was written in. She had had to read the letter several times, and the reality of it all was just now beginning to sink in. As she replaced the paper to her pocket, Sarah thought about Jarod's reaction. Just as with her, the contents had been so surprising that he'd been nearly speechless.   
From his facial expression, it had been impossible to tell whether he was pleased with the news or not. The girl worried that she, as a sister, was a disappointment to him.   
Sarah was still gazing at the perfect morning when she heard the glass door slide open and shut behind her. Without turning, she spoke to her older brother.   
"Is there anything more beautiful, Jarod?" he asked, referring to the sunrise. She glanced at him, and the smile on his face quickly removed all doubts from her mind.   
"I don't think so, little sister," he replied. Glancing at her, he added, "You look exactly like my photo of our mother." He handed her the picture he always carried. Sarah studied it. He was right; it was like looking into a mirror. They had the same deep, bright blue eyes and brilliant red hair.   
"What do you know about our family... big brother?" she queried, trying out the last phrase somewhat hesitantly, and deciding she like the sound of it.   
"Not a whole lot," he admitted. "I know our father's name is Major Charles, but I have no idea what our surname is. Kyle, our brother, was a few years younger than me, and under Raines' control for most of his life. He was being trained as an assassin. After he was supposedly released, they kept him in a cell down in Sub-Level-27." At this comment, Sarah looked away, remembering how Raines had treated her. She wondered how well her brother had held up under it. "He got out, though," Jarod continued, "and we met each other. He and I started to work together to find Mom and Dad. The two of us were trying to help a family out, when Lyle murdered him." As he spoke, Sarah could see him struggling to keep his expression calm. Nevertheless, she knew what he was thinking: that he would have dearly loved to meet an unarmed Lyle, alone, in a dark alley. Of course she understood. She hated Lyle as well, for the brutal murder of her adopted parents. He had gleefully killed them, and then threatened to do horrific things to anybody she chose to tell the truth to.   
"Is that all he lives for?" she asked angrily. "To ruin other peoples' lives?"   
"I don't know," Jarod answered truthfully.   
********   
The phone rang.   
"This is Sydney," he stated clearly into the mouthpiece.   
"Hello, Sydney," said a familiar voice.   
"Jarod! I expected you to call much earlier," Sydney said, gently scolding his charge. "Eight months is a long time. How are you two?"   
"As well as anybody involved with the Centre ever can be. By the way," he said sarcastically, "how are all of my dear old friends at the Centre?"   
"Some better than others." Sydney smiled indulgently. "You should have seen Raines' face when he was informed that not only had you escaped again, but you had taken Sarah with you." He paused. "Why did you take her with you?"   
"It was more the other way around," Jarod replied.   
"So, what are you going to do now?"   
"Eat lunch," Jarod said, purposefully misunderstanding his friend.   
"Jarod, you know what I men. You can't possibly expect to raise a 14-year-old girl." Sydney looked up to see Miss Parker stalk into the room.   
"It's not that simple, Sydney. Blood is thicker than water."   
Knowing what was coming, Sydney quickly exclaimed, "Jarod, please don't hang-" he was too late, "up."   
"So," Miss Parker said, "what are those annoying little guinea pigs up to? Any ideas on why he just picked some kid to take with him?"   
"When I asked him why he took Sarah with him, Jarod said it was the other way around."   
"Great. And how does he expect to take care of a teenage girl, Pretender or not?"   
"He said that 'blood is thicker than water.'"   
"Now, what the hell is that supposed to mean?" she asked, growing quickly impatient.   
"We will just have to wait and see, Parker," Sydney said philosophically. "Jarod will let us know when it is time."   
"Damn it, Sydney, I can't be patient much longer. We'd been chasing your Pretender for two years, then, when we finally catch him, he disappears again. Only this time, he takes another one with him!"   
"Parker, do you know what Sarah did while she was her?"   
"Well, I assume she Pretended. After all, that was what she was here for, wasn't it?"   
"At first, she simmed whatever Raines had her do. But when Jarod escaped, she was reassigned as a joint project. She was now to become Jarod." Sydney could see that Parker was intrigued, as she ordered and aide to go find Broots and send him to her. He continued. "Half of her time was spent with Raines, being him and trying to find him, and the other half was spent with me, completing sims Jarod had already done." He smiled again, remembering her work. "Sarah is so talented. At eleven years old, she was working on harder sims than Jarod ever did. I never saw one that she couldn't complete in less than twenty-four hours. In fact, it was one of Sarah's leads that brought us to Jarod.   
"After Jarod was brought back in, Raines took Sarah to see the man she had helped to bring in. Apparently, it was a huge mistake. She became very angry and upset. There must have been something about him that told her he wasn't the dangerous man Raines had made him out to be."   
"Did they ever actually meet?" Parker probed.   
"No. Jarod couldn't have known she existed."   
Broots entered, just as Miss Parker was saying, "We can't get to the bottom of this until we know why she went with him."   
"You wanted to see me, Miss Parker?" he said.   
"Yes, Broots. I want you to find out everything you can about the Pretender called Sarah. I want to know where she was born, who her parents were, and anything that can tell us why she is gone, too."   
"I'll get right on it," Broots said.   
********   
Sarah was making her bed and singing softly when Jarod quietly poked his head into her room. She didn't notice him, so he remained silent. They were in the small, yet comfortable, two-bedroom apartment they had lived in for the past two months. After nearly eight months of freedom and lying-low, Jarod was noticing a change in his little sister. At first, she had been somewhat edgy, but now, she was more mature and much more at ease with her surroundings. He was pleased with her progress; he still hadn't quite adjusted to freedom. Just goes to show how kids bounce back from things, he thought.   
"You have a beautiful voice," he said with a smile, "but why are you singing 'O Holy Night' in August?"   
She blushed slightly at the praise, but returned a flashing grin as she said, "It's the first song I ever learned. I heard it plying once in Sydney's office, when I was in the vents with Angelo. Even after learning so many more songs, it's still one of my favorites." Jarod had soon found out that most of the time Sarah hadn't been simming was spent crawling around in the ventilation system. He was glad that she had found a friend in him, and sometimes suspected that a little of his gift for empathy had worn off on her.   
"How is Sydney?" she asked, trying to change the subject. Jarod was amazed. This was one of those times.   
"He's doing well. But, how did you know I'd spoken to him?"   
Sarah laughed at her big brother's surprise. Then she became a little more serious. "Actually, I don't know. I guess there are some things I just sort of understand." Jarod could see that she was uncomfortable, so this time, he changed the subject.   
"What do you think about going to school, little sister? It starts in a few weeks."   
She thought for a few moments, then the smile returned to her face. "I would love to."   
"Are you sure? All of the work will be very simple for you, even if you are enrolled above your grade level, and there might be times when we have to leave suddenly and not come back. I don't want you to be disappointed if that happens."   
"I know. I just want to meet some kids my own age, though."   
"Great," her big brother said enthusiastically.   
********   
"Here you go, Miss Parker," Broots said, laying a file on her desk. As she scanned through the information, Broots gave Sydney a summary of what he had found. "There is no record of Sarah before she was about two years old. When she was still really young, she was the only witness to the murder of her parents. After that, she was passed around through various foster homes. The last one was abusive."   
"I remember when she was brought in here," Sydney remarked. "Sarah thought that we were social workers, coming to take her to a new foster home.   
"What I want to know," Parker interrupted, "is why nobody heard of this kid when she was a baby."   
"That is pretty odd," Broots admitted.   
"Well, you'd better figure it out, then," she said.   
  
  



	3. Let There Be A Light, Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Okay, okay, I don't own them. Well, I don't own the Centre and Jarod, Miss Parker, etc, but I DO own the character SARAH, so you had better not use her without asking me! I wrote this for fun, and I am having fun, so anybody to wants to stop me shall not succeed. You'll never take me alive. Or dead, for that matter.   
I'm sorry it took so long to get this together. I'm writer, ya know, pen and paper, not a typist. So guess what? It'll be another while before I get the next part out. Oh, and please excuse any mistakes, because I spilled soda on my keyboard and it doesn't work right anymore.   
  
  
  
  
Let Be There A Light   
Part 3   
By Tchabu  
  
The young Pretender slowly woke, feeling the bright morning sunshine falling across her face. She rolled out of bed and dressed quickly, then walked out into the kitchen. On the table she found a note that read:   
Sarah-   
Went to the grocery store. I'll be back in an hour.   
Her brother had signed it, so she grabbed an apple and sat down to read the newspaper. As she looked at the front page, she found herself staring into the eyes of a child. The little girl was probably about five or six years old, an adorable brunette with freckles sprinkled over her rosy cheeks. Sarah read through the article and discovered that the child had been missing for over 72 hours.   
Without hesitation, Sarah pulled on her socks and shoes. I've done so many Sims that have hurt people, she thought, that I should at least try to help. Leaving a hasty note of her own, she hurried out into the street, knowing that time was crucial.   
When she arrived at the place from which the girl had disappeared, she took a deep breath and put herself into the child's place. Becoming her, Sarah slowly strolled down the street while she checked all of the possibilities until she found one that fit. Now came the difficult part. It would have to be a two-part Sim, since she had just realized that the child had been kidnapped. After a while, she suddenly knew what to do, and strode resolutely in opposite direction from which she had come.   
********   
The building was dark and dingy. Knowing that the kidnappers could return at any time, Sarah quickly and quietly set about opening the door. One thing she had always been thankful for was her knack for picking locks. The door clicked dully, and she slid inside to look for the girl. She found her huddled up and crying in a bedroom. Sarah whispered soothing words to her, that everything was all right now and that she was safe. They were about to leave when Sarah heard a hand on the doorknob.   
"We have to go down the fire escape and you have to be absolutely quiet. Can you do that for me?" The tearful little girl nodded, so the Pretender helped her climb out the window, following close behind. She rushed the girl down the ladder. She did not want to be caught on the escape. When they got to the ground, the child ran ahead as Sarah took a second to glance back and see three men following and picking up speed.   
"Run!" she screamed, gratified to see the girl duck into a candy shop. She sprinted as fast as she could, but that second would cost her, for just then one of the kidnappers grabbed her.   
********   
"Wait till you see what I brought, little sister," Jarod called affectionately, setting the full grocery bags down on the kitchen table. "She's gonna love this," he said, pulling a Mr. Potato Head out of one brown paper bag. Then he noticed a quick note that said she was on a walk. Well, she would see it when she got home.   
********   
The little girl reemerged, pulling an elderly man by the hand. He saw a girl fighting three men. She was tall, red-haired, and slim, but she was struggling fiercely. The man was amazed at the fight she was putting up, but before he could do anything, the girl went down under the onslaught of kicks and punches. He rushed back inside and dialed 911.   
********   
"Have you seen a redhead, about this tall and fourteen years old?" Jarod asked, indicting a height with his hand. Hours after finding Sarah's note, she hadn't returned home, and he had grown worried. It wasn't like her to stay out for such along time without telling him where she would be. Now, about ten after noon, he had tracked her down to a candy shop.   
"Oh, yes," said the man behind the counter. "Around twelve. She found the missing girl, but the kidnappers found her, too. They beat her up pretty bad, but only after she gave 'em something to remember. The ambulance just left a minute or so ago." Jarod hastily thanked the man and set off towards the hospital.   
********   
"I'll take care of the paperwork, Dr. Crowe, while you attend to your first patient. She just arrived in the ER moments ago," said the nurse.   
Jarod smiled, pleased that his pretend was working. "Thank you, nurse," he said, as he was led into the emergency room, where he introduced himself and hurriedly prepared.   
On the table, he saw his own little sister, although she was so covered in bruises and lacerations that he could hardly recognize her. He quickly and efficiently set to work, setting bones and stitching up wounds. There was one particular cut that he knew would leave a scar about an inch and a half long, on her left cheekbone. There was nothing he could do to keep it from doing so, excepting plastic surgery. After about an hours' work, Sarah was wheeled into the ICU and Jarod took a short break.   
He'd been able to piece together what Sarah had done: after seeing the newspaper article, she had gone off to find the missing child. Then, as the man had said, the kidnappers had caught up and attacked her. Now, she was in a coma with a broken right arm and wrist, dozens of cuts and bruises, and three cracked ribs. Why hadn't he been there to help her, he asked himself. It was his fault. He was her big brother; he should not have let this happen. If only he'd been there...   
********   
"Dr." Jarod was walking down the hall when he noticed a woman holding the hand of a small child. He instantly recognized the child; she was the pretty brunette Sarah had rescued, and the woman was obviously her mother. They seemed somewhat lost, and he was curious, so he approached the pair.   
"Can I help you?"   
"We're looking for my angel," the little girl stated. "We brought some pretty flowers for her."   
Her mother smiled and explained. "We can't find room 219. The girl in it saved my daughter, so Becky thinks that she's an angel."   
Jarod led them to Sarah's room with a sad, yet proud smile. Once there, Becky carefully placed the flowers on the windowsill. Then the woman asked who the girl was, Jarod could hardly keep from saying that she was his brother.   
"Her name is Sarah," he simply said. "Other than that, the hospital has no information about her."   
"Why won't my angel wake up?" the child asked.   
"She's just sick, Becky," her mother said, not wanting to worry the child. "We'd better get going, dear."   
"Okay." Turning to the bruised form, she said, "Get better, angel. Thank you."   
Jarod softly shut the door behind them and sat down next to the bed. He took Sarah's hand, careful to avoid the IV. Quietly, Jarod spoke words of encouragement and reassurance, telling her that everything would be all right and that she could pull through this. He didn't know if she could really hear him, but if she could, he didn't want her to be afraid.   
********   
"Miss Parker! Sydney," Broots called. Both turned and waited for him to catch up. "Oh, Miss Parker," he panted, out of breath, "you'll never believe what I found out."   
"This is the Centre, Broots," she snapped. "After everything that I've seen, there isn't much that will stun me."   
Sydney smiled. "What is it?"   
"I found out who Sarah is."   
Before he could say any more, Parker pulled him into her office. "Now, talk."   
"Sarah is Jarod's sister."   
The psychiatrist was the first to respond. "That certainly explains what Jarod meant."   
"Well, the Pretenders are just one big, happy, lab rat family," Parker sarcastically stated, in an attempt to hide the fact that she really was amazed by the news.   
"Sarah was adopted at two years old, so their parents must have worked really hard to cover that up. I really had to do some digging."   
"You're about to do some more. Get on that computer and find them. NOW!" Broots scrambled to obey and was soon clacking away at the keyboard.   
********   
Weeks wore on; Jarod continued to be Dr. Crowe, and Sarah remained comatose. No damage had been done to her internal organs, for which Jarod was thankful. However, as time passed and she showed no sign of improvement or regaining consciousness, he knew he had to accept the fact that she might never recover.   
********   
"I found her!" Broots said it so suddenly that Parker jumped to her feet and was immediately reading over his shoulder.   
"What about Jarod?" she asked.   
"Um, uh, no, not Jarod, just Sarah." After a pause, he turned to Sydney. "She's in a hospital."   
Not giving him time to respond, Miss Parker said, "Pack your suitcases, boys, we're leaving in half an hour." She began to stalk out, but then turned. "And, Broots, not a word to anybody. Especially Lyle."   
********   
The hospital cafeteria was packed. Jarod waited patiently for his turn to order lunch, which would be a bowl of soup and a sandwich. As he stood in line, he happened to glance towards the door and saw a man in a suit. A dark suit. With a sudden chill, the word "Sweeper" registered in his mind.   
"Oh, no," he muttered. Trapped. His dark eyes momentarily scanned the huge cafeteria. Then he saw his way out: the tiny door leading into the kitchen, which would, hopefully, have another exit. He kept his head down as he strolled nonchalantly towards the door. Moving too quickly would simply draw attention. Once through, he ran into the empty hall.   
Wondering where he should go next, a thought struck him like a ton of bricks: Sarah. He couldn't let them take her back. Jarod rushed into the nearest elevator and punched a button. The doors slid silently shut and he prayed that he wouldn't be too late.   
********   
The huntress stood in the hallway with Broots, just outside room 219, where Sydney was with the girl. She couldn't have gone in with him; she didn't do well in sickrooms. They had arrived ten minutes before and were now waiting for two things. One was for the group of Centre employees to finish preparing Sarah out to the helicopter. The other was the Sweepers who had gone in search of Jarod. The latter showed up first.   
"He isn't here, Miss Parker," Sam said.   
"Damn. Well, we can't wait around for him to show up," she stated, as the young Pretender was wheeled from her room.   
********   
Jarod sprinted up the hallway. None of the Sweepers had seen him, and he had already asked the receptionists and nurses to keep quiet about where h was. He burst into the hospital room, only to find it deserted. Without a second thought, he turned and sprinted in the opposite direction from which he had come.   
Down corridors and up flights of stairs he ran, taking steps three at a time. Instinctively, he made his way to the roof. The only logical conclusion is that they would take her away in a chopper. He had to get there in time. There was no way to tell what they would do to his little sister back at the Centre.   
Up ahead, he saw the door that led to the topmost point of the hospital. Jarod flung it open and was nearly knocked backwards by the wind, just in time to se the helicopter lift off the ground. In anger and desperation, he kicked at the door. Too late!   
  
  



	4. Let There Be A Light, Chapter 4

  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Let There Be A Light  
Part Four of ?  
By Tchabu  
  
It was dark and Sarah was absolutely terrified. She had no idea  
where she was. She only knew sensed that she was all alone. In her  
dreams, she had felt a comforting hand holding her own and heard her  
brother's voice speaking reassuring words, but now he was gone. She  
vaguely wondered why he had left her, but was unable to open her eyes  
to find out.  
  
***  
  
Sydney was working busily at his desk when an aide brought him a  
simple message: The Triumvirate wishes to see you. Knowing that  
such highly placed Centre powers rarely bothered with employees of  
his station, he immediately set out with a sinking sensation resting  
in the pit of his stomach.  
  
***  
  
The doctor finished checking over his patient, explaining his  
findings to the nurse as he cleaned up.  
  
"Her ribs are healing well. However, her arm isn't mending  
correctly; I believe it will have to be broken and set again before  
it will ever be usable. Also, her vital signs show that she should  
regain consciousness within the next 48 hours."  
  
***  
  
He couldn't see the face of the man behind the desk, but that had  
always been the way the Centre operated. Sydney listened to him,  
very pleased with what he heard. Every once in a while, he glanced  
at Raines, who was also seated before the large desk, reveling in the  
expression on his face.  
  
Finally, the spokesman for the Triumvirate comcluded his lengthy  
oration with a simple statement. "The project known as Sarah will be  
reassigned in entirety to Sydney." He let it hang upon the thick air  
before Raines began to protest vehemently, arguing that "it" had been  
his project for a decade. "Silence, Raines! You have produced NO  
successful projects in many years. The Kyle project, for example,  
was a complete and utter disaster." Turning to Sydney, the man  
said, "Sarah will most likely regain consciousness within hours, so I  
would advise you to be available when she does. If you violate any  
of the conditions I have given you, you will be promptly removed from  
this project and severely punished. You are both dismissed. Go now!"  
  
***  
  
Sarah's eyelids fluttered open and were confronted by a glaring  
fluorescent light. She wondered groggily where she was as her eyes  
adjusted to the brightness. After scanning the nearly empty room,  
she knew that she was in a tiny space with stark white walls, a  
chair, her bed, and a dark security camera mounted in a corner. For  
some reason, the blinking red light gave her an uneasy feeling and  
she struggled to get up. However, a heavy wave of agony hit her and  
forced her back down to the bed.  
  
With all of the pain, fear, and heavy medication, Sarah couldn't  
clear her head enought to get an intelligible thought through to  
herself. In her mind's eye, she suddenly saw a face, and she reached  
around in her memory to find a name. She recognized him instantly;  
his dark hair and soft brown eyes were so familiar. She grinned in  
triumph as his name came to her.  
  
Jarod. With that, memories came flooding back to her: all the time  
she had spent with her brother, everything he had taught her, and and  
all of the years she had spent at the Centre, where she realized she  
now was. Still, she had no idea what had happened to her or why she  
was in a cast and had taped up ribs. Why had she been unconscious?  
And where was Jarod? Knowing the Centre, he was probably off  
somewhere being tortured.  
  
Sarah suddenly felt a chill. There was no way for her to know where  
her brother was and whether he was safe, and that thought worried  
her. She lay there shivering, staring at the wall, until Sydney  
arrived about ten minutes later.  
  
He smiled warmly and pulled the chair up next to the bed. "It's good  
to see you finally awake. How are you feeling?" No answer. She  
continued to stare past him. Sydney tried again. "You've been in a  
coma for about five weeks. Tomorrow, your right arm will have to be  
reset so that it can heal properly." This time, she turned her head  
and met his eyes.  
  
Sarah whispered one word. "Jarod?" she asked. It was barely  
audible, but the psychiatrist caught the hope in her voice and her  
eyes. He hated himself for answering as they had instructed him to.  
  
"Sarah, I'm sorry, but your brother has been killed. His body was  
discovered a few days ago. He had been shot several times." At  
least they could have gone with the old freak accident story, Sydney  
thought. He had no idea why they had switched over to murder after  
all these years. Secretly, he hoped that she wouldn't believe the  
lies, but knew that in her weakened and heavily sedated condition,  
she wouldn't even think that he wasn't telling the truth.  
  
The girl looked as if she had been slapped. The little bit of color  
in her cheeks drained away, leaving her very pale and weak-looking.  
The spark of hope died away and she turned her head to stare at the  
wall again, dry-eyed and motionless, until Sydney quietly let himself  
out.  
  
She was alone now. Not just in the room, but in the world. Jarod  
was the only real family she had ever known. Sarah remembered very  
little about her adoptive parents, except for the last few moments of  
their lives, and none of the foster homes had ever felt like home.  
Not only had Jarod taken care of her and taught her about the world,  
he'd been her friend. The only other person Sarah could call a  
friend was Angelo, but that was different.  
  
The girl lay there for a long time, feeling numb and very much in  
shock. Finally, however, she drifted into a dreamless slumber.  
  
***  
  
"She regained conscoiusness today," Sydney stated intot he telephone,  
skipping any formalities. In the same moment, he silently prayed  
that the line wasn't tapped and wondered why he suddenly felt so  
incredibly old and weary.  
  
"Have they come to a decision yet?" the voice on the other end  
replied. Jarod was both anxious and fearing the answer.  
  
"Yes." Sydney paused. "She is assigned to me from now on." Jarod  
breathed a sigh of relief, but before he could speak, his mentor  
continued. "Jarod, there are certain conditions I must abide by for  
Sarah to remain in my care."  
  
"What are they?"  
  
"Your sister is to remain in Renewal Wing until she is able to return  
to her old 'space.'" This comment brought a sigh that sounded  
desperate and angry at the same time. "Secondly, she must be  
pretending again withing eight months, and--," here he was  
interrupted.  
  
"Do they expect her to Pretend for them after she knows what they do  
with the sims? Much less after she has been out in the world for all  
this time?"  
  
"Jarod, you have to understand that, since she is so talented, the  
Triumvirate has decided that she will go back to doing sims, whether  
she wants to or not." He spoke tha last phrase bitterly, knowing  
what it would mean to his new charge.  
  
"I KNOW she's talented. At fourteen, she's better than I was at  
twenty-five. Do you have even know what she did?" Without waiting  
for an answer, he continued. "With nothing better to go on than the  
place a child disappeared from and a picture, she simulated the  
kidnapping of a little girl, becoming both the child and the  
kidnappers. Then, she found the little girl and rescued. This all  
took her less than three hours."  
  
"Three hours?!?" Sydney gasped. "She was never even given any sims  
that complex."  
  
"Well, think of how they'll try to use her now, Syd." There was a  
short silence.  
  
"There are two other conditions I have not yet told you about."  
  
"Go on."  
  
"In order for your sister to remain in my care, instead of Raines',  
she must believe that you are dead."  
  
"So what's the story this time?" Jarod burst out angrily. "Have I  
been killed in a plane crash, like our parents?" He spat the words  
out, the rage apparent in his voice.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Jarod. I don't want to go along with this, but I'd rather lie than have Raines in charge of Sarah."  
  
"Thank you, Sydney. I'm sorry I shouted."  
  
"Don't apologize, Jarod." After another long silence, he said, "I'm  
worried. Starting tomorrow, she is required to have daily sessions  
with Lyle as part of her re-integration into the Centre."  
  
"Lyle? Isn't there anything we can do to stop them?"  
  
"Believe me, Jarod, I've tried. the Triumvirate is extremely  
stubborn on this point."  
  
  



	5. Let There Be A Light, Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Same as all the others.  
  
Let There Be A Light   
Part 5/9  
By Tchabu  
  
  
Sarah dragged herself over to the sink. Turning on the cold water, she began to roughly scrub her bloodied face with her left hand, ignoring the sore and tender spots. The icy water numbed her and helped to clear her mind a bit. Once she decided that she was clean, which was difficult without the luxury of a mirror, she dried quickly and sat down on the hard mattress. The bed was the only piece of furniture in the dreary cell she was once again forced to live in. At least it wasn't Renewal Wing anymore.  
  
For three weeks, Lyle had seen her daily. His name alone was enough to make her skin crawl, but she was doing a fairly good job of hiding her disgust and contempt. Day by day, the murderer had attempted, in all ways imaginable, to break her. No matter what he tried, be it coaxing, drugs, or threats, she had remained silent, just as she had since the day she'd regained consciousness.  
  
Today wasn't any different. Seemingly desperate, Lyle had resorted to violence. Her face still stung from the slaps and punches. Still, she'd taken it all stoically and silently. Growing angry at the fact that she wasn't giving him any reaction, Lyle had stormed out early, leaving her alone.  
  
None of this really bothered Sarah. Physical pain was nothing; with some cracked ribs and one arm still in a cast, not to mention years with Raines as her "caretaker," she had easily learned to deal with that type of thing. No, the loneliness was much worse. She'd grown used to the love and friendship her brother had always showed her, but now he was gone, and Angelo was the only one left to talk to.   
  
He visited her once in a while; seeing her old friend was the only saving grace of having to live in this hellhole. At least she now knew why she "understood things." She was an empath, Just Like Angelo himself, and now he was teaching her to use her skills to her own advantage.   
  
A sudden wave of dizziness swept over her, and she carefully leaned back to lie on the stiff bed. Yesterday had been by far the worse of he sessions with Lyle, and she was still feeling the effects. Instead of saying anything, Lyle had immediately injected her with a translucent, yellowy-brown liquid. Sarah didn't know what the drug was, but she realized that it was a powerful hallucinogen. She shuddered, remembering the horrifying things she had seen. Her worst nightmares had never been half so bad.  
  
Silently clamping her teeth shut, she'd ridden out the hallucinations, much to Lyle's displeasure. On reflection, that was what most likely brought on today's abuse. Sarah knew that she was already being heavily medicated and that, along with whatever Lyle had given her, and was now making her severely ill.  
  
She sat up again, but the whirling sensation made her nauseous. The redhead barely made it to the toilet in time, before she was violently ill. After she was completely empty, the dry heaves took over, and then she sank to the cold tile floor. Her eyelids closed heavily as she gave way to the physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Jarod rubbed his eyes as he sat at his computer. Stifling a yawn, he glanced at the clock and continued to work busily. It was 11:45 pm, he'd been up since 3:30 that morning, and he was totally beat. Since they'd taken Sarah away, he hadn't been sleeping well. His dreams were flooded with images of them doing horrific things to his little sister, and he was unable to help her. And the guilt! I should have stopped them, he thought, standing and slamming the chair into the table. He paced restlessly, as he had hundreds of times over the past two months. Come to think of it, it was just about two months since Sarah had gone into the coma, two months since he had last seen her awake and smiling. He despised his inability to do anything about the situation. He should be able to take care of his own family.  
  
The last update from Angelo had come about an hour ago and had left him feeling sick. It was one of the many video emails, this one showing Sarah in her cell with Lyle there. For no apparent reason, the cannibal began to beat her mercilessly, and she just sat there and took it. No matter how hard he hit or kicked her, she did nothing, said nothing. Eventually, she slid down to the floor and he walked out, leaving her sprawled out, bloody and bruised.  
  
Jarod had immediately wanted to go and take the Centre by storm, but knew that it would do no good. It wasn't time yet. He grabbed the phone and punched in a number impatiently. After a few rings, he heard the familiar voice on the other end.  
  
"This is Sydney." Jarod noticed that his old friend sounded weary and worried.  
  
"How is she?" he asked.  
  
Sydney hesitated. "Not well at all. I found her passed out on the floor in her room. She was ill this afternoon, and her clothes were covered in blood from her session with Lyle."  
  
"Damn it, Sydney, when I catch that bastard..." Jarod let it hang at that, so the older man quickly changed the subject.  
  
"The Triumvirate has approved your idea about the music," he said, not wanting Jarod to get more upset.  
  
"Music was--is-- one of her favorite things about the outside world. I'm hoping that her having access to some will help her."  
  
"Jarod, this may be our last hope," Sydney said gently. "After three weeks and not a word, it isn't likely that she'll ever speak to anybody again. In addition to that, Sarah has--." He stopped.  
  
The Pretender's voice was low and hard when he spoke. "Tell me, Sydney. I need to know what's wrong with my sister."  
  
With a sigh, he continued. "Jarod, Sarah has been diagnosed as suicidal."  
  
Jarod closed his eyes and sat down, putting his head in his hands. "How is she being treated?"  
  
  
***  
  
  
The girl lay on her bed, slightly groggy and feeling out of it. She wondered where Angelo was. He was the only person left she trusted, and he hadn't been around to see her in about a week. Staring at the ceiling, her thoughts returned to the place they were going more and more often. She'd overheard Sydney telling some nurse that she was suicidal when they thought she was sleeping. In truth, she had considered it, and was still wrestling with it as a possibility. The only thing that was keeping her from offing herself was the realization that Jarod would never have wanted her to take a coward's way out.  
  
"Hello, Sarah," Sydney said cheerfully. Before the door even opened, she knew who it was; one of the benefits of being an empath is to recognize a person by the way he or she felt, in the same way that dogs recognize each other by scent. "How are you today?" he asked, pretending to expect an answer. Of course, he didn't get one. "Would you come with me, please? I have something to show you."  
  
Sarah stood up slowly, fighting the stiffness of her muscles. As Sydney slowed his pace to match her painful, limping one, he couldn't help but notice how skinny she had grown. She must hardly be eating, he thought. He also noticed that, although her expression was blank, beneath her swollen eyelids intense pain was apparent, as well as the slightest hint of stubborn defiance. That gave him hope for her.  
  
Eventually they arrived at a good-sized room. It was nothing like the rest of the Centre; comfortably furnished, with several overstuffed armchairs, a large mirror that appeared to be only for decoration, and, best of all, a glistening grand piano. As Sarah moved hesitantly towards the beautiful instrument, the old psychiatrist withdrew to a room next door where he could see without being seen. He wanted to leave her alone, but worried that, unattended, she might do something drastic.  
  
  
***  
  
There were stacks of sheet music on the piano bench that Sarah gently placed on the ground before sliding onto the wide seat. She ran her hands over the highly polished wood, then softly brushed the keys with her fingertips, making no sound. Then she settled in to play.  
  
First came familiar melodies: Moonlight Sonata, the Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies, and O Holy Night. The last one brought back the memory of the last day she'd seen Jarod. Tears began to fall for the first time, splashing on her lithe fingers, as she began to simply play.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Sydney stood in the other room, watching and listening. He saw the Pretender close her eyes and lean slightly back, letting the music flow from her fingers. He knew that he was hearing music that nobody else ever had; achingly sweet melodies that spoke of pain that words couldn't describe. There was no telling how long he stood there listening before Miss Parker walked into the room.  
  
"Syd, some nurse wants to talk to you. Something about medications," she said. He left to deal with the unwanted interruption, leaving Parker entranced by the notes she heard drifting through from the room beyond.   
  
She listened intently, trying to understand the deeper meanings. While very beautiful, parts of the music were subtly dark; almost imperceptibly so. Despite her willing them not to, her eyes filled with tears, and she saw the young girl as a person instead of a subject owned by the Centre. I'm as bad as all the rest, she thought. I know what it's like to lose family, and now I've taken it away from somebody else.  
  
Suddenly, the door to the piano room opened and in walked her brother. For some unknown reason, the sight of him gave her a chill. She knew what the young Pretender's bruises were from. Parker watched as Lyle strolled over to stand next to Sarah.  
  
***  
Ok, that's all for this chapter. Let me know what you think!  
  



	6. Let There Be A Light, Chapter 6

Disclaimer: The show "The Pretender" was not created by me, and TNT, MTM, and maybe NBC own all characters and the Centre. I created the character SARAH; so do not use her without my permission. Thanks!  
  
  
Let There Be A Light  
Part 6/9  
By Tchabu  
  
Sarah kept playing, mindful of the man at her back. Without looking, she knew who it was. Nobody ever felt as malicious in her mind as Lyle did. She was grateful for Angelo having taught her to use her skills of empathy; something was wrong, and she didn't want to be caught off guard.  
  
He leaned close to her ear, preparing to speak. She abhorred his presence, but pretended not to care that he was barely an inch away. "I have something to tell you, Sarah," he whispered, so low that the microphones wouldn't pick it up. Her eyes remained straight ahead as she continued to play, but her body suddenly became tense. "We've been working together so long that I think I owe you this. But let's get to the point: I know. I know you told him." Lyle had no need to explain. She understood what he meant. It was about the death of her adoptive parents.  
  
"I never said a word," she convincingly lied, through clenched teeth.  
  
He believed her, but kept going, enjoying the sadistic rush he got from causing pain. "Sydney doesn't know how he died. It wasn't gunshots that killed your big brother. I had the time of my life, cutting him apart, piece by piece." He accented each word to give the greatest possible effect, smiling evilly the entire time. "I had him crying like a baby in under five minutes. I've never seen a grown man so easily broken." He would have gone on, but was silenced by an elbow to the gut.  
  
***  
  
Miss Parker could not believe her eyes. In the room beyond, that frail seeming girl was mercilessly beating a grown man at least twice her age; namely, Lyle. She thrust her left elbow into his stomach, knocked him flat on his back, and was promptly upon him, fists and feet flying. Using her cast as a club, she smashed at his nose and soon had turned his face into a formless, bleeding mass.  
  
Parker broke out of her amazement and dashed into the hallway. Sydney was on his way back, so she screamed for him to hurry, and that, "You've got to see this," then ran into the room where a one-sided fight was taking place.  
  
***  
  
Sarah kneeled on Lyle's chest, keeping him down successfully as she literally beat him senseless. Al of the rage and pain she'd been trying to keep in escaped with each heavy blow. She pummeled, slapped, and scraped, until he lost consciousness. Still, she was unable to stop. As if from far away, she heard somebody state, in a rather bored tone of voice, that she was going to kill him. If I am, she thought, I'm doing the world a favor.  
  
Out of nowhere, strong hands grabbed her and tried to pry her off the bleeding man. Sarah struggled fiercely and almost broke free before being wrestled to the floor and sedated. Everything went black.  
  
***  
  
"She isn't dangerous. Something must have provoked her," Sydney argued, although he knew it was useless.  
  
In reply, Mr. Parker shouted, "Isn't dangerous, my ass! That girl nearly killed my son. On top of that, it took five Sweepers and a heavy sedative to subdue her. No, I'm not taking any chances. The Pretender will remain in the restraints she was put in."  
  
"This will only make matters worse," the psychiatrist protested.  
  
"You'd better see that it doesn't!"  
  
***  
  
Jarod sat on the couch, eating a hot fudge sundae and trying to watch a Three Stooges marathon, although his heart wasn't really in it. Behind him he heard the mechanical voice on his laptop chime, "You've got mail," so he got up, licked his sticky fingers, and accessed the file.   
  
The subject line said "sister," as had all of the other updates from Angelo. It was another video file from surveillance DSA's. The first few moments showed an unoccupied room. Soon, Sydney and Sarah entered. Seeing his sister, battered, empty, and devoid of hope tore at his heart. When she saw the piano, she made her way to it and touched it gently, as if to make sure it was real. Jarod saw the mentor leave the room, but instinctively knew that he wouldn't be far away. Then the music started.  
  
He had to sit down as the intensity of it hit him. Sarah was pouring everything she had into it, opening up and baring her heart and soul. Jarod had heard her do this before, but it was a very rare thing. She loved music with such a deep passion that it came naturally to her, yet, never before had the result been so profound.  
  
He was distracted from the music when a door opened and in strode one of the most hated men he'd ever known: Lyle. As he watched, the man bent down so his mouth was close to her ear and whispered something. Her expression stayed the same, but Jarod noticed that the music was growing progressively angry and more ominous. Sarah said something, but it was so quiet that he couldn't understand her words. He replayed the section three times before he understood: "I never said a word." Lyle kept on whispering in her ear.  
  
Without warning, he was knocked down by the girl, who sent the neatly stacked sheet music flying in the process. Jarod was shocked to see his sister, of whom he was so protective, viciously assaulting a man who had at least eighty pounds on her. He'd never seen anybody do that much damage with nothing but fists and a cast on one arm, not to mention the fact that she was being medicated for suicidal tendencies.  
  
Miss Parker stated detachedly, "She'll kill him." Within minutes, the room was swarming with Sweepers, who set upon the girl and attempted to pry her off her unconscious victim. Her struggles prevented them from holding her, and she twisted away. Three more men, all built like football players, joined in, and were successful in restraining the hysterical girl. Once injected with a tranquilizer, her body went limp and her struggles ceased.  
  
Jarod distractedly shut down his computer. The email surprised him, to say the least. The Sarah he knew wasn't a violent person, but then, he didn't know this Sarah. The girl inside the Centre was completely different from the light-hearted kid he'd grown to love. He'd gained new hope from her playing the piano, but it had been effectively crushed by her actions concerning Lyle. What had made her do this? It didn't make sense; after all this time, the abuse she'd received from Lyle, why should she suddenly snap? There had to be something more. If only he knew what Lyle had said to her!  
  
***  
  
Tell me what you think! tchabu22@hotmail.com  



	7. Let There Be A Light, Chapter 7

Disclaimer: The Pretender and all characters therein belong to their respective owners, which isn't me. However, I created Sarah, so she is mine! Enjoy!  
  
  
Let There Be A Light  
Part 7  
By Tchabu  
  
***  
  
Sarah opened her eyes and tried to stretch. Her arms wouldn't move. Still groggy, she struggled weakly until she realized that she was in a straight jacket. That revelation brought the memories of what had happened, and the thought that it was all her fault. The cobwebs fell away from her mind. I killed my own brother, she thought, as surely as if I did it with my own hands.  
  
The guilt hit her then. She was a murderer! She'd known better than to tell Jarod; she'd known the consequences. Nevertheless, she'd told him, and Lyle had found out, and now Jarod was dead, all because of her. She wondered if it would be better for everybody involved if she was dead. Not knowing what else to do, she forced herself into a sitting position, drew her knees up to her chest, and prayed the only thing that came to mind:  
  
"Let there be a light by which to guide my feet…"  
  
***  
  
Sydney glanced at his watch. By now, Sarah should be awake, so he decided to go check on her again. After the incident with Lyle, he was extremely concerned about the girl. I owe them, he thought. If not Sarah, then certainly Jarod.  
  
He found her on her bed, sitting curled up in the corner with her eyes tightly shut. Her lips were moving, but no sound escaped. She was still entangled in the straight jacket, and he wished there was something he could do to help her. Not wanting to startle her, he called out in a comforting voice from the doorway where he stood.  
  
"Sarah? Are you there?" She wasn't; just as it had been since she'd been here, there was no answer. He touched her shoulder and spoke to her several times, but the girl was completely unresponsive, although she continued to whisper to herself. Finally, by listening carefully and reading her lips, he was able to discern what she was saying.  
  
"Forgive me for all that I have done. Let there be a light by which to guide my feet…"  
  
***  
  
Miss Parker looked over the box to see if, by some imbalance in the universe, there was a return address or any clue at all. No such luck. Jarod was much too meticulous for that. Oh, well. It wasn't as if she even really wanted to bring him in. There could be no more burying her head in the sand after what she'd seen. She pulled a small knife from her desk and sliced through the packing tape. In the midst of all the Styrofoam peanuts she found a CD case. Curiously, the huntress slid it into her stereo and pressed "play."  
  
As the sounds began to permeate the room, Parker idly sifted through the filler to see if there was anything else. She was rewarded with a pair of framed photographs. One was very familiar: it was a copy of the one sitting on her desk, in which she was sitting on her mother's lap. The other depicted a pretty young red head and a man with short black hair and deep brown eyes-Sarah and Jarod. They were seated side by side on a park bench, the perfect picture of a happy family. Parker noticed how alike the two were. Both had the strong chin and prominent noses that marked their appearances apart fro everybody else's.  
  
Then the music broke into her thoughts and she recognized the haunting melody. Without question, she accepted the fact that Jarod had sent her the audio track of a DSA, because it was definitely Sarah's playing. Once again, the music moved her to tears.  
  
Parker saw the message Jarod was sending her. She'd lost the only people she had loved and been loved by, and so had the two people in the photo. Only this time, it was as much Parker's fault as anyone's in the Centre.  
  
She poured herself a drink and said, through her tears, "Damn it, Jarod, bringing your sister back was no great victory for me." She sat alone in the dark, listening to the piano music and sipping on her drink.  
  
***  
  
Angelo scrambled silently through the heating ducts. He had everything he would need for the short trip in a bag slung across his shoulders. The time was definitely right, he thought.  
  
***  
  
"Ly-le," Parker softly singsonged into his ear. He didn't open his eyes, so she roughly smacked him on the side of the head, growling, "Wake up!"  
  
Her brother groaned. The Centre's infirmary was not exactly the most comfortable place in the world, and unwanted visitors didn't help matters much. "What?" came the muffled reply from under the bandages in which his head was swathed.  
  
Parker leaned close and smiled coldly. "I'm just dying to know how an abused, drugged, and malnourished girl half your age can land you in the infirmary.  
  
"Go away." The command was not nearly as forceful or commanding as he would have liked, but, under the circumstances, it would have to do.  
"I don't think so." Miss Parker rested the heel of her palm menacingly over his mutilated nose, giving it just enough pressure to be painful. "So, what did you do? Did she finally get tired of the beatings? Or maybe she just decided to society a good turn and get rid of you?" She spoke slowly to draw his anger and pain out as long as possible. "She's only a child, you know, and will only take so much before she snaps. But then, you found that out on your own, didn't you?"  
  
"Going soft, sis?"  
  
"Don't bet on it. You'd just better watch who you turn into enemies." With a vicious twist on his nose, she stalked from the room, leaving the curtains to flutter in her breeze.  
  
***  
  
Sarah was curled into a fetal position, facing the wall, when she heard a noise behind her. As cluttered as her mind was, she thought it was Sydney coming in through the door. But a split second later, she felt Angelo's presence, so she turned, with difficulty, to greet him. He always had a calming influence on her because, despite the fear and pain he knew, he'd learned much about joy and it had stayed with him.  
  
When Angelo's friend met his eyes, a wall of forceful anguish hit him and he backed away with a moan. Knowing what frightened him, Sarah tried to comfort him.  
  
"It's okay, Angelo. You're fine," she soothed. His fears allayed, he sat down next to her, while she began to work on the buckles of her straight jacket.  
  
"Hurt." It was more a statement than a question.  
  
"Yes, I hurt, Angelo. I'm sad and lonely."  
  
The childish man put his hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes. "Anger. Guilty, but shouldn't be."  
  
"Why shouldn't I feel guilty? I am guilty. I'm responsible for Jarod's death." Instead of answering, her friend grinned triumphantly as the final buckle came undone and Sarah was free to use her arms again. Well, one of them, she thought, stretching carefully. "That feels better," she stated, noncommittally. She watched as Angelo reached into his bag and pulled out a think coat. Sarah could tell from the feel of it that it was Miss Parker's. To her surprise, he made her put it on, and she realized that he would help her get out.   
  
She asked Angelo for something to write with, but, as he had no paper, she scribbled something onto her pillowcase. Then she was boosted into the vent, with Angelo following.  
  
***  
That's all for now, folks. If you liked it, hated it, or thought it was mediocre, let me know!  



	8. Let There Be A Light, Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I created the character named Sarah, but everybody else, including the Centre, belongs to TNT, NBC, MTM, etc. No infringement intended, and I'm not getting anything out of this except for the fun. Enjoy!  
  
Let There Be A Light  
Part 8/9  
By Tchabu  
  
***  
  
Sydney sat in his office the next morning, trying to think of a course of action. It was 10:00 am, and Sarah hadn't been seen for over fourteen hours. Without warning, the harsh ringing of his cell phone cut through the silence, startling him, so he picked it up.  
  
"Hello, Sydney," Jarod said.  
  
"Jarod, thank God! Please tell me she's with you!"  
  
The slightly panicked note in his friend's voice unsettled him and put an ill sensation in the pit of his stomach. "What are you talking about?"  
  
The older man's face fell, along with his hopes. He steeled himself for Jarod's reaction to the coming news. He tried to break it as gently as possible, but knew it wouldn't help. "Jarod, we can't find your sister. The grounds have been searched thoroughly and she has completely disappeared. But I'm worried because Sarah left this note." Sydney then read the pillowcase note he'd found. The other end was totally silent for a few moments, and the psychiatrist thought he'd hung up. "Jarod?"  
  
He heard the younger man slowly let out a long breath as if he'd been holding it. "A suicide note?"  
  
"I'm afraid so."  
  
"How long has she been missing?" His voice was tight with sorrow, fear, and rage at what they'd done to his little sister. Sydney knew that it was terribly difficult for Jarod to remain in control of himself. He'd lost one sibling already, but to lose another, to suicide, would be a crushing blow.  
  
"She hasn't been seen since last night at 8:00. The surveillance system has been tampered with, so we have no idea when she left her room."  
  
Jarod swallowed hard, his mind racing. By now, Sarah could very well have carried out with it. She could be lying somewhere… Stop it, he ordered himself. Getting hysterical would not help anything.  
  
Sydney continued to speak, as much to fill the silence as to give information. "As you know, she was being medicated for depression. I thought she was responding well to the piano, but then the…incident… with Lyle occurred. Since then she's been kept sedated and in a straight jacket."  
  
"My little sister has been drugged and kept in restraints for nearly a week?!?" This time, the fury was apparent in his voice.  
  
"Mr. Parker would not listen to reason. Actually, the Triumvirate is quite curious as to how she escaped her restraints." This comment was met with a muttered remark about Mr. Parker and the Triumvirate doing something obscene and physically impossible. Sydney let it slide. "The last time I saw her, Sarah was huddled into the farthest corner of her bed with her eyes shut and her knees pulled up to her chin. She was whispering 'Let there be light,' or something to that effect."  
  
Jarod smiled a sad little smile. "'Let there be a light by which to guide my feet.' Sarah decided that God must be real, and that otherwise, there would be no point to life," he explained. "That is how Sarah always prayed. Prays," he corrected himself. As hopeless as the situation might have seemed, Jarod was not going to put his sister in the past tense yet. He just wasn't ready to give up.  
  
***  
  
The sky was a flat gray, and the fog was oppressive and thick, but freedom felt wonderful. Sarah sat on the bench with Angelo, waiting for a bus. Despite how good it felt to be out of the Centre once more, she couldn't help but miss her brother. Trying to keep her mind off of that subject, she asked Angelo where they were going. In response, he fished around in his backpack and came up with a blue and red object, which he handed to her. It was a Spiderman Pez dispenser that she knew right away to be Jarod's. As they waited for their ride, Sarah remembered the day her brother had introduced her to Pez.   
  
"This is my favorite candy, he'd said, showing her how to load up the dispenser and eat the candy. She could see his smile as clearly as if he were standing directly in front of her. A single tear slid down her cheek.   
  
Angelo, sensing her pain, put his arm around her shoulder in a comforting gesture. Sarah smiled at him and said, "I'm fine, Angelo. I just can't get used to the idea of Jarod being gone." Her friend smiled secretively and patted her shoulder. Just then, the bus arrived, so they climbed into it and took their seats.  
  
***  
  
Sarah was glad to have the thick coat Angelo had given her, but felt sort of bad that he'd taken it from Miss Parker. She knew she could trust her. Still, it was early November, and the air was already extremely cold. They had gotten off of the bus after a five-hour ride, and now were walking along a nearly deserted highway. Finally, a huge semi-truck came to a stop on the shoulder and the driver swung the door open. Angelo climbed into the cab without hesitation, so Sarah followed.  
  
"I can take you as far as White City," the trucker said, flashing a toothy grin. Sarah liked him. He had green eyes and short, graying hair. He was probably in his mid-fifties, and seemed to be a happy guy. "My name's Lou."  
  
"I'm Anne, and this is Michael," she said. They were the first names that came to mind and she wasn't about to give their real ones. They couldn't risk going back to the Centre.  
  
"Pleased to meetcha," Lou said, and launched into a tale about the biggest fish he'd ever caught. Sarah settled back and listened to the stories and jokes.  
  
***  
  
Jarod sat in front of the fireplace, holding Sarah's tiny golden cross in one hand and a framed copy of the photo he'd sent to Miss Parker in the other. Three days. Three long days of searching for clues, and there wasn't a trace of her anywhere. Maybe it's time I faced the facts, he thought. After all this time, and knowing what her state of mind was…  
  
He mentally yelled at himself for his fatalistic attitude. He couldn't stop hoping yet. He turned his attention to the picture in his hand. He thought of how happy Sarah had been. That was the day she'd had her first ice cream cone. It was a big vanilla one that she'd wanted to make last, but kept dripping down her fingers. He smiled for a moment, remembering Sarah hurriedly catching the dribbles and trying to keep up.  
  
Jarod adored his younger sister. He would have done anything for her, and he loved to see her eyes light up whenever she discovered anything about the world. And he was so proud of her! Anytime he came to her with a problem about one of his Pretends, she could quickly work through it and come up with the correct answer. Even after watching all of the DSA's, he hadn't seen a sim she couldn't get through, or one that she'd asked for Refuge from. Come to think of it, working under Raines most likely didn't include the option of Refuge.  
  
Jarod glanced at the clock and realized how late it was. The Pretender prepared for bed, knowing that staying awake and worrying all night would do no good. He decided to get up early and continue his search from his computer. There was still time.  



	9. Let There Be A Light, Chapter 9

Disclaimer-I still don't own any of the Pretender's characters or the Centre, and I still own Sarah.  
  
OK, guys, this is it. The grand finale, and I hope you all enjoy it!  
  
Let There Be a Light  
Part 9/9  
By Tchabu  
  
***  
  
Sarah thanked Lou for the ride as she and Angelo hopped out of the cab. They waved to him as he drove away, and he honked his horn in reply.  
  
The girl still had no idea where they were going as Angelo set off confidently. She hurried to catch up. She decided that they were fairly close to their destination, since her friend wasn't looking for a bus stop or trying to hitch another. At least the weather was warmer, around 55 degrees, instead of 25.  
  
They walked at a fairly relaxed pace through the streets lined with well kept homes, white picket fences, and children playing in piles of fallen leaves. The autumn air held a musty odor of wet leaves. The sun was warm on her back and the fresh air felt cool on her face, so Sarah enjoyed the walk.  
  
Soon, Angelo took her hand and led her up to a blue house with white trim and a bare weeping willow in the yard. The man grinned at her encouragingly as he positioned her directly in front of the door. She rang the bell and waited, having no idea what to expect, and not noticing that Angelo quietly turned and left her alone on the steps.  
  
***  
  
Lyle walked stiffly through the dark corridors of the Centre. He could almost taste the revenge now. That little bitch is going to pay, he said to himself with a malicious smile. Nobody would get away with humiliating him. It had almost been too much to bear: a fourteen-year-old girl who was drastically underweight had nearly killed him. His face was still sore from the beating he'd taken.  
  
Lyle found himself in front of Sarah's room. He glanced at his watch. Good. It was the usual time for his session with her, so he let himself in. Two steps into the room, he stopped dead in his tracks. The mattress was bare, the bathroom freshly cleaned, the security cameras disabled. The room was empty!  
  
Hurrying into the hall, Lyle called to an orderly who was wheeling a supply cart down towards him.  
  
"Where is the occupant of this room?" he demanded impatiently.  
  
"Oh, she disappeared a few days ago, sir. I believe she left a suicide note," the young woman said, moving on down the corridor.  
  
She was gone. Lyle muttered under his breath bad temperedly as he made his way back to his office. There's nothing worse than missing a chance of revenge, he thought.  
  
***  
  
The doorbell rang. He didn't think anybody from the Centre would be so polite, but you could never be sure. Moving silently, he grabbed his gun and peered out the window. There were no black town cars or Sweepers, so Jarod put his gun away and swung the door open and was shocked by who he saw.  
  
On the front step stood Sarah. An immense wave of relief swept over him. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come. Her eyes filled with tears as her big brother pulled her into a loving embrace. The man held her while she cried, as she never had before.  
  
At last, Sarah pulled back and looked into his eyes. "They told me you were dead," she whispered. The words echoed in Jarod's mind, and he remembered the other occasions he'd heard them used. He answered as he had before:  
  
"Not hardly, little sister."  
  
***  
  
Jarod made some hot cocoa as he waited for Sarah to come out of the bathroom. She looked terrible: she was dangerously thin, still had a cast on her right arm, and was covered in bruises. There had been something about her eyes for just an instant before she'd recognized him: they'd been so dark and angry, and it worried him. He pushed the thought from his mind. Sarah was safe now and they were a family again. That was what mattered.  
  
***  
  
The girl stood under the hot water streaming from the showerhead, carefully keeping her cast dry. She turned the water off and quickly dried. Then she slipped into a pair of her old flannel pajamas and ran a comb through her long hair. As she did so, she noticed how gaunt she'd become and made a mental note to put some meat back onto her bones. Now that she could be sure her food wasn't being drugged…  
  
She also noticed a thin scar, about an inch and a half long, that ran along her cheekbone just under her left eye. She touched it gently. Lyle hadn't given it to her; of that she was sure. Come to think of it, she didn't even know why she'd been comatose and had a broken arm. The only thing she could remember was the face of a crying child. Removing the last tangle from her hair, Sarah set the comb down and decided to ask Jarod about it.  
  
She found him sitting on the couch in front of a comforting fire he'd built. Wordlessly, he handed her a steaming mug of cocoa. Sarah sat down and took a sip. They were silent for a while, then, "Thank you," she said abruptly.  
  
"What for?" he asked, knowing it wasn't the beverage.  
  
Sarah smiled softly. "For talking to me when I was comatose. You kept me from being afraid." Jarod smiled back, not caring what this would mean to science, and not speaking. Another long period followed with no noise save for that of the crackling fire. "Jarod," Sarah finally said, "what happened to me? I can't remember." So Jarod briefly explained the amazing Sim she'd completed, and how she'd rescued the little girl. Sarah's only question was, "Is the girl alright?"  
  
"She's fine." Her sincerity made his heart swell with pride; although his concern was always for others first, it was wonderful to hear the same selflessness from his sister.  
  
Jarod suddenly straightened. "I promised I'd call Sydney when I found anything out," he said. He reached for the phone, but Sarah stopped him.  
  
"Please don't."  
  
"Why not?" he asked, surprised.  
  
"You know about my supposed suicide note." At his nod, she continued. "I wrote it because if they think I'm dead, they won't come after me. I don't want anybody to know just yet."  
  
Jarod conceded, and then they sat contentedly until Sarah fell asleep on the couch. Jarod covered her with a blanket and kissed her forehead. Once again, he had family nearby, and he was happy.  
  
***  
THE END  
  
Tell me how you liked it!  



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